The Shadow Over Whiterun
by VampireQueenAkasha
Summary: The Dragonborn uncovers a dark rumor in Whiterun involving Hermaeus Mora and a runaway who was believed to have been tempted by him. But like most of these rumors, there's always a much darker truth to them. - M for mature elements as well as references to rape -


**The Shadow Over Whiterun**

**Author's Note**: Well, this is my very first Skyrim fic. I might be a little late to the party (lol), but I've been working on the game for a long time. I figured I'd give it a go since this little one-shot idea's been bugging me. There is some mature elements to this, so tread cautiously. The title is a play on Lovecraft's novella, The Shadow Over Innsmouth. It seemed fitting since most of Lovecraft elements seem to be prevalent in Apocrypha. The Dragonborn is not thoroughly detailed in this fic (though he is male) as most of you who read it can probably visualize your character. LOL.

_"Insanity - a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world."_

- R. D. Laing

_"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."_

- Friedrich Nietzsche

**By: VampireQueenAkasha**

~O~

_Mondas, 21st of Evening Star 4E 201 _

The Dragonborn had arrived in Whiterun during his travels to speak to the Jarl, only to stop at The Bannered Mare for some food and a place to rest. Most of the residents didn't seem to display much interest in him for the moment as there was a conversation going on regarding a missing woman.

"Jurgorn, if the girl was lucky, she'd be halfway to Solitude by now."

"She's been taken by Mora, I know it!"

The Dragonborn looked up at Hulda with interest before glancing back, seeing two Nord men crowded by those who worked the inn or simply stayed for drinking. One was an older man in tattered clothing - a farmer, no doubt. Another was a young lad dressed in armor and had a sword strapped to his back. He seemed tall, proud of himself; though the older man was currently embarrassing him given the way he regarded all the amused stares he received from the other people.

"What's his story?" the Dragonborn asked Hulda.

Hulda leaned forward. "Jurgorn's daughter, Maeva Red-Throat." she whispered. "They say she was tempted by Hermaeus Mora and disappeared into his realm of Oblivion. But between you and me, the girl just ran away from them."

The Dragonborn frowned curiously. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, you didn't hear it from me but..." Hulda glanced both ways before cupping the side of her mouth with one hand. "They say that Erik fellow - her brother - did things to her. Horrible things." She straightened and started wiping down the counter. "But you know...just rumors."

The Dragonborn finished his drink before standing, approaching the two men once the others left; they continued to make cruel jokes while Jurgorn rubbed his face with two hands.

"What's going on?" the Dragonborn asked.

Jurgorn lifted his head and looked startled. "Here to mock me too?"

"Just tell me what happened to your daughter."

Erik snorted coldly. "We don't need your help, Dragonborn."

"Nonsense, Erik!" Jurgorn snapped, glaring up at his son. "If there's anyone who can help, it's him!"

The man looked up at the Dragonborn pleadingly. "My daughter. She's been missing for two years now." he explained. He held out an old, wrapped-up book. "I have her journal here that said she's left the family, but it's wrong, I know it is!"

The Dragonborn took the offering. "Why do you think she was taken by Mora?" he asked.

Jurgorn scowled, his wrinkled features hardening. "Because the girl was obsessed with the Daedra, especially Hermaeus Mora! I warned her time and time again about it!" he insisted. "Her obsessions must have finally had her taken by him!"

The Dragonborn knew of Hermaeus Mora. He was presently working on a task for the Daedric Prince regarding Miraak. This was something he could look into.

"I'll see what I can do." he said.

Jurgorn looked blessedly relieved. "Thank you! Thank you, Dragonborn!" he said. "I'll pay anything! Anything to have my little girl back!"

"Don't worry about that now," the Dragonborn assured him. "I'll find her."

O

It was strange.

The journal he read made no sense to him.

The Dragonborn was capable of reading the Black Books, deciphering the Elder Scrolls, but this journal seemed...wrong. It stated that she had traveled to Solstheim, looking for a way to contact Hermaeus Mora, but the Dragonborn knew there were many ways to do so. Still, it seemed that going back to the island was the most logical thing to do. After all, he had to venture into the realm of Apocrypha anyway. Perhaps he could approach the Daedric Prince about it.

Once he arrived, he opened the Black Book entitled _Waking Dreams_.

Immediately, he was transported into the dreary realm of Hermaeus Mora. The toxic green fluid constantly belched out smoke, tentacles swam throughout the dark, black skies. And there were an innumerable amount of books, as the foundation with columns of stone and grates of metal forming the shape of the structure. Some of these structures were constantly changing their shape from stretching and contracting to swaying from side to side. It was a familiar sight indeed.

So he began his trip through this personal hell of the Daedric Prince.

Sometimes, on rare occasions, the Dragonborn encountered lost souls in this realm. Perhaps there was one among them who knew of this Maeva Red-Throat.

He found one, muttering in a corner and chanting some unusual phrase. He was transparent, wearing old robes. When the spirit looked up and spotted the Dragonborn, he grinned brightly.

"Oh! A visitor!" he gasped, in an ethereal voice. "We don't get many visitors."

"I am looking for Maeva Red-Throat." the Dragonborn told him. "Where might I find her?"

"Maeva..." the soul whispered, pondering the name. "Maeva. Oh, you won't find her here. She doesn't like us." His voice took on a spiteful edge. "Filthy pestilence touches her! Always touching her. Poor Maeva." His voice returned to its gentle pitch. "But seek out the Scarlet Seeker. When you do, you will find her."

Scarlet Seeker? That was strange. The Dragonborn had not seen such a creature. Most were green, sickly blue on rare occasions, but never Scarlet.

"A Scarlet Seeker?" the Dragonborn snorted.

"Yes. Scarlet." the spirit said, giggling.

The Dragonborn saw no reason to ask further questions and simply began his search.

On the way, he encountered many Seekers, disgusting creatures of Hermaeus Mora, but he never once saw one closely resembling the Scarlet Seeker the shade spoke of. He had almost considered it a ridiculous idea before stopping at the foot of a pathway. It crossed an entire pool of sludge and he could see a Seeker reading from a book in the corner. It was smaller than the Seekers he had come to fight and instead of the sickly green skin most Seekers had, it was dark, almost blood red in color.

But really, what could he gain from a Seeker?

It wasn't long before the creature turned, letting out the familiar bell-like sound the Seeker's made, catching the sight of the Dragonborn. It carried with it an unusual high pitch compared to most Seekers, but the hero had no chance of considering it as the Seeker was already attacking.

It unleashed a blast of green light in the form of a magical draining spell. The Dragonborn rolled, evaded and dodged each attack. He drew out his weapon and lunged at the creature, but a blast from a spell he had never seen before knocked him back, slamming him into several rows of books. It was distinctly similar to one of his Shouts and hurt almost as much.

The Seeker hovered toward him, raising a long, gangly hand. But then, it froze.

_"Wait...I know your smell..." _

It spoke. The Seeker spoke perfectly like a human. Though this voice was moderately higher in pitch and sounded like a human being choking on their own blood.

"You speak?" the Dragonborn exclaimed.

The Seeker drifted back a little. _"Why are you surprised? In the realm of Mora, all things are possible. As is with any Daedric Lord."_

The Dragonborn stood up, still clenching his sword, but lowering it a little. "I was told that if I found you, I would find Maeva Red-Throat."

The Seeker's large, white eyes seemed to widen somewhat before sinking back into its flat skull. _"You have come to take her from her home, I assume?"_

"What do you mean?"

_"Maeva Red-Throat is indeed here, in Apocrypha," _The Seeker explained, drifting silently about as a human would if they were pacing. _"And she is quite content to remain. It is Miraak who is your true test, is he not? Forget the woman."_

"Yes. Miraak is my task, but this woman..." the Dragonborn replied. "I told her father I would help."

_"I'm sure you did..." _The Seeker seemed to shudder, chuckling. _"You wish to find Maeva Red-Throat. Well, you need not look further. I am she."_

The Dragonborn studied the Seeker with amazement on his features. Now that he truly looked at this creature, he could see some feminine attributes, though he never thought the Seekers could show these signs. So this creature was once human?

"How is this possible?" he asked.

_"...Do you possess my journal?" _the Seeker questioned.

The Dragonborn nodded his head. "Yes?"

_"Give it to me."_

The Dragonborn reached into his pack and offered the book to her. Maeva took it, hovering it a few inches from her hand before it was extinguished into powder.

_"This book is a lie. It was not written by me." _Maeva told him. _"I have the truth here."_

She conjured another book that looked to have been smeared with blood and dirt, offering it to the hero. The Dragonborn took it, staring down at the book briefly before regarding the Seeker with intrigue on his features. She said nothing for a while and just drifted there, watching him.

_"My Lord and Master has decreed it you destroy Miraak." _she told him. _"I will take you as far as I can. My journal is enchanted with powerful magic. It will allow you to see my past as if you are truly there."_

The Dragonborn looked up at her. "Thank you."

_"Do not thank me. It is the will of Mora."_

And so, they ventured forward.

O

Maeva was silent most of the time, but assisted in dispatching the Seekers and Lurkers they encountered along the way. When the Dragonborn inquired about destroying her own allies, she merely laughed at the concept.

_"These creatures had served Mora, but Miraak had taken control of them," _she explained. _"They are decadent, useless. Trapped in their own time."_

"So you feel nothing when you kill them?"

_"...No."_

The Dragonborn stopped and removed the journal Maeva had given him from his pack. She stopped drifting and looked back at him when she sensed he had stopped following. She drifted back toward him and watched as he opened her journal.

_"We must continue, Dragonborn." _she said. _"You can read that later."_

"I have time." the Dragonborn told her, with a peculiar look. "I had a feeling something was wrong about that book they gave me. I must know."

Maeva remained silent, watching him with those empty white eyes.

_"Very well..."_

The Dragonborn set his things down and took a comfortable spot near a pile of books. Maeva drifted close and positioned herself appropriately so that she could watch for more enemies. She didn't speak any more on the subject about learning her thoughts. She was a peculiar creature, but the Dragonborn did not remark on it further.

He simply stared down at the words written and began to read.

His mind was transported into another plane, in the same manner as when he had ingested Vaermina's Torpor. He was no longer in Apocrypha, but standing outside of Whiterun's walls, on a farm where a woman was harvesting potatoes.

This was Maeva.

She was young, lovely in her own right, but not shockingly attractive like some Nord females could be. She seemed timid of most things, shy of human contact. The Dragonborn could see Erik and Jurgorn working on the other side of the field and Erik gave Maeva a look that had her shuddering where she stood.

The Dragonborn could hear the words of the journal playing back in a crisp, clear human voice.

_I'm not a beautiful woman. I understand that. No man could see that. Not after the things I've done._

_I know there would be many who claim it is no fault of mine. But I am weak. Too weak to defy him. Too terrified to do anything about it._

The Dragonborn could see Maeva now working in the farmhouse, feeding her brother and father some stew and bread. Her father seemed more intrigued by Erik's political interests in joining with the Imperial Armies, but Maeva was not. She could not seem interested when her brother would turn a lecherous eye to her.

_He would do it once, maybe twice a week if he was really upset with me. I still don't understand it. What had I done to deserve this fate? Was it because of my obsessions? By Mora, I am no criminal to deserve this torment!_

The Dragonborn saw Maeva sitting alone in her bed, weeping. She was covered in bruises and holding herself tightly, shuddering beneath her bed covers. She let out a shriek of grief, covering her face with two hands. It was a horrible sight.

Then, the scene changed. Maeva's features had begun to darken. She looked like a desperate animal now as she began to read book after book in her room.

_I had heard of a way to contact Mora directly; there were books in Solstheim, Black Books. I could certainly start there. _

_My madness has overflowed into me. Perhaps I am insane to seek retribution from a Daedra, but who else would have my request? The word from a whore hardly carries any significant grip. _

The scene now changed to Erik boarding a ship in Solitude. Maeva watched with excited relief.

_My time had come. Father was easy to manipulate. I had someone distract him while I boarded for Raven Rock. Captain Gjalund Salt-Sage was particularly charitable when I gave him everything I had to make this journey. He seemed concerned about returning to the island, but I think he pitied me. _

_What a shame. Yes, even I am a thing to be pitied. _

Maeva was on her knees before Gjalund, pleading with him. The Captain seemed to take pity on her and allowed her passage.

_I journeyed to Solstheim. The trip was difficult, but I came across an interesting Telvanni wizard named Neloth. Arrogant and proud, he did offer to help me. "Sending me to my death", he deduced; though he was curious about the results of my exposure to the Black Book. He was a being who studied everything, so I used it to my advantage. _

Maeva was seen sitting at a table while Neloth - the familiar enchanter the Dragonborn was so aware of - held out the book for her to read. It took a few moments before she disappeared into the book as he often did, though her body was still seen to a vague extent.

Then, he could see her standing before Hermaeus Mora, prostrating herself before the Daedra Prince. A single tendril slipped beneath her chin, making her lift her now tear-streaked gaze up to the Prince of Fate, Memory and Knowledge.

_Mora had become attracted to the presence of a mortal in his realm. I offered him my soul, my loyalty, my everything for retribution against my brother. Only an oath of complete and utter subjugation was required of me. He didn't have that problem. For my fealty, love and loyalty, I was promised my desires. But as Mora always claims, it has a price. And a price it did indeed have._

The scene changed, showing Maeva standing before Hermaeus Mora again with a Telvanni in her hands. The Daedric Prince stabbed a tendril through the Telvanni's head, letting out a sigh of pleasure as he consumed what the Dragonborn could only see as secrets.

_I had to retrieve those with special secrets for my Master. Would you look at it as selfish? Would you see me turning my back on my own mortal brethren and sisters?_

_They had turned their back on me. Perhaps it is, but it has been so long since I sought my own happiness, I felt it was rightfully deserved. I did not question him. I did not ask why. I simply did the deeds that he had asked of me without hesitation. _

_Mora was pleased with this, but after all was said and done, he claimed my reward would come soon enough. In the form of the Last Dragonborn, soon to be his new champion. _

In the next scene, the Dragonborn witnessed Maeva, changed and altered by her time spent in Apocrypha. Her body looked haggard and thin, like a fleshy skeleton. Hermaeus Mora was before her and understood that she had nothing to desire.

_"My Lord, I do!" _Maeva had cried. _"I want my brother dead!"_

_"Ahhh, this I understand. An unwanted touch from him has scorned you. You don't just want him dead. You want him eternally bound to suffer the way you suffered." _Hermaeus Mora crooned, his voice occasionally changing in pitch as it always did. _"You could never know the touch of a man without flinching like a beaten dog. You could never know the kiss of warm lips without choking. I know this for it is my kingdom. It is my power to understand the most...intimate of secrets." _

The Maeva in this image withered under the truth of those words.

_"Apocrypha has no fury for a woman scorned, Maeva Red-Throat. For your reward is simple. Easy to satisfy. Your loyalty will indeed have its delights. This I offer you, an embrace without pain. Without despair. For only I could every grant you such."_

The Maeva in the illusion was embraced by a tendril and held to the Daedric Prince. This action surprised the Dragonborn, but knew that Daedra granted the wishes of those who expressed undying loyalty. This was truly what she had wanted.

_When he held me, I expected the ice cold sensation of death. To be embraced by a Daedra surely held the icy chill of their wickedness as I had been taught. But they were wrong as always._

_He was warm. _

After reading the journal, Maeva had led the Dragonborn to the Summit of Apocrypha where they witnessed the flight of a blue and gray Serpentine Dragon. Maeva observed this for a long time before she exhaled, a sick sound of annoyance.

_"Miraak's pet. Sahrotaar." _she said. _"It is here you must take him to Miraak."_

The Dragonborn understood. Bending the will of a dragon would be difficult, but he would certainly try. "Thank you for leading me here." he told her.

_"Dragonborn, before you go...might I ask you for something?" _Maeva queried, just before he could step out.

"Of course."

_"I would teach you how to conjure me in Tamriel." _Maeva said, her voice softer now, more human than it used to be. _"Do so on the farm where my family resides so that I may enact my vengeance upon them. Then, you may forever summon Seekers to your world to aid in your fight."_

The Dragonborn looked at her sadly. "Even your father?"

Maeva was silent for a moment, hanging her shoulders. _"Father always was a heavy sleeper..."_

"...Very well."

He started to go, but stopped and looked back at her. "Is it too late to apologize?"

Maeva looked up at him. _"For what?"_

"What happened to you. I am sorry to see you driven to this. I will grant your wish." the Dragonborn told her.

_"Thank you."_ Maeva said. She paused briefly for a moment and her voice seemed...content. _"You're very kind." _

O

Miraak was suspended by Hermaeus Mora, the Daedric Prince bellowing out triumphantly.

"Did you think to escape me, Miraak?" he snarled. "You can hide nothing from me here. No matter. I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me."

Miraak choked on his own blood, impaled by a tendril that Hermaeus Mora had shoved through his chest. "May he be rewarded for his service as I am!"

And with that, Miraak was disintegrated in a flash of gold light. Maeva appeared beside the Dragonborn and lowered her head before her Lord. Hermaeus Mora let out a triumphant chuckle, turning his attention to the hero now as he discarded Miraak's skeleton.

"Miraak harbored fantasies of rebellion against me. Learn from his example. Serve me faithfully, and you will continue to be richly rewarded." he told him.

_"The traitor shall forever rot for his betrayal." _Maeva hissed.

The Dragonborn approached a book near a pedestal, but paused and glanced back at Maeva. She nodded her head somewhat - a simple inclination - before he returned the gesture. Hermaeus Mora disappeared and Maeva gave a small call of longing.

_"I will see you soon..." _she sighed.

O

The Dragonborn stood before the farm, letting out a sigh before he chanted a conjuring spell.

In a flash of violet, Maeva appeared at his side. She took a deep intake of air, closing her eyes. _"Tamriel...it's been a long time since I've inhaled the bitter taste of mortal air." _she said. She looked at the Dragonborn with a smile in her voice. _"Thank you, hero."_

"Is this really what you want?" the Dragonborn asked.

_"It is. It's my turn now. They will fall deep into my darkest dreams." _

The Dragonborn nodded his head. "Go then."

_"I will do it while they sleep. Just as brother had done to me..."_

Maeva disappeared into the house and the Dragonborn observed through the window. The creature drifted silently to her brother's bedside and she reached one horrid hand to his face. Erik's eyes opened and he let out a scream, but it was silenced by her hand clamping tightly down on his mouth. Her multiple limbs clenched tightly, shaking and she held up one finger to her mouth.

_"Shh, don't struggle or it will hurt more!" _she whispered.

The Dragonborn looked away, listening to the horrid sounds of carnage and death, flesh tearing and bones breaking. Maeva's sounds were inhuman, horrible and triumphant. When they finally ended, the Dragonborn could see nothing had once been living inside the house. Just blood sprayed all over the walls and floor.

The only thing vengeance had ever brought.

But at least the shadow from this family had been lifted.

That was all he could do these days.


End file.
